Salva Nos Apocrypha
by Ajora
Summary: Every event generates potential futures. This is a collection of what-if stories for the post-Apocalyptic crossover fic Salva Nos.
1. 00: Spinning Yarns (prologue)

Salva Nos Apocrypha  
00: Spinning Yarns  
by Ajora Fravashi

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.  
Note: This is a collection of completely non-canon side-stories for the universe of Salva Nos. Nothing written here is actually a part of Salva Nos itself. Nothing here reflects any sort of end-game for the fic. This is just me entertaining myself with complete nonsense and what-if shipfic. Anyone getting into this Apocrypha is encouraged to read SN first. The Apocrypha can and will involve the following: heterosexuality, homosexuality, bisexuality, gender nonconformity, monogamy, polyandry, and more. I am likely to lose all my followers for this, but please keep in mind that this is just for fun. I'm releasing this now because the upcoming chapter (20) is going to be very, very dark.

* * *

Daisuke didn't really care what anyone did on their off-time, so long as it was something. Everyone should have a thing they did that wasn't part of their daily work tasks. Takeru played world conquest games with Ken when he wasn't writing in his notebook, Patamon raced with Piyomon, V-mon had a group in the Digimon Room that he played with, Jun guided newcomers around and helped them settle in, Sora spent her time alone to decompress and experiment with traditional arts, Jianliang disappeared somewhere and reappeared hours later with helmet hair and sometimes taught t'ai chi and kung fu in the gym when Iori wasn't teaching kendo, Wormmon turned out to be surprisingly good at knitting and sometimes played with Iori's Armadimon. Daisuke himself flitted between several social groups depending on their availability: the poker group Senri hosted, Manami's boxing class, the culinary club, the soccer club, and whatever else was open at the time.

And, sometimes, he just liked to watch people. He sat up on the catwalk suspended over the hydroponics part of the enormous chamber that also housed the cafeteria, legs dangling over the edge just above the support trellis for some climbing plants. Behind him were the hot lamps that provided light to the garden. At this time of day, the lamps were out and the only light came from the cafeteria part of the area. Senri's poker game wouldn't start for another couple of hours yet, all the sporting clubs closed at sunset, and he'd already eaten supper. He had a flask of sake in his pocket, but he was not yet in the mood to indulge.

Roughly thirty minutes into his people-watching venture, he heard tiny feet on the metal causeway and the slap of long, prehensile ears on balusters. While he couldn't say that he expected to see Terriermon here, he also wasn't very surprised. Gliding digimon occasionally used the catwalks to stay in practice, though that was usually done in the Digimon Room. "Jen know you're up here breaking rules," Daisuke asked lightly once Terriermon arrived on the catwalk. No one was supposed to be jumping off catwalks, but people generally turned a blind eye to those digimon who did.

Terriermon stuck out his tongue and settled next to him. "He's busy being a butt."

"No, really?" Daisuke couldn't help but laugh. How the hell Li Jianliang ended up with a digimon who seemed to be his exact opposite, Daisuke had no idea. "What's he being a butt about?"

"Let's see…" Terriermon stuck out one stubby hand and started ticking off a list on his fingers. "Ken, Ryo, Osamu, Shaochung, Lianjie. And a bunch of boring details about his job, but those are the main ones. And a lot of angst." The digimon paused and flexed his fingers before draping his ears over his feet. "Entire boatloads of angst. He prefers being alone for that."

Daisuke let the silence last for a few minutes. Whatever Jianliang's demons were, he probably didn't even share them with his digimon. But there was something he was curious about. "I… kindasorta overheard him talking to some guy in one of those remote hallways no one's supposed to use. All I heard was a list, though. Gibson meteorite, iolite, petrified wood, and palladium. Jianliang didn't sound too happy about it. And there was something about wanting Jianliang there for the ceremony."

"Oh!" Terriermon laughed lightly. "That's what he meant. There's a couple he has a crush on, but never got up the spine to tell either of them. They're getting married at some point."

His eyebrows rose at that. He'd never considered being with more than one person; just one relationship was a lot of work. But two? Wow. "Someone's greedy."

"Jen's never happy with anything simple." Terriermon's dark eyes danced in amusement. Then he switched gears, which was unsurprising. Terriermon might poke fun at his partner, but never to much of an extent. "Whatcha doing up here?"

"I got bored and wanted to watch people." He considered his company. Terriermon was a blast, moreso because human stories were the kind Daisuke loved. Everyone had a story, and Terriermon collected them much like Daisuke did. Whether they were true or not was entirely irrelevant. "Why don't we swap stories?"

With a tone of pure glee, Terriermon began.


	2. 01: An Unexpected (TakeruRukiKen)

Salva Nos Apocrypha  
01: An Unexpected Development  
by Ajora Fravashi

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.  
Note: This came out of a fic prompt on Tumblr. It in no way reflects the actual endgame of Salva Nos, and there is no pairing/threesome for any of these characters in the main fic itself. Warning for bisexuality and polyandry.

* * *

Every morning since Ruki moved operations to Hiroshima, she could be found on the porch overlooking the pond in the historic Shukkei Garden. She'd taken the former Asano family villa as her own, largely as her due for all her hard work for the newborn country, and no one had opposed her. That she wasn't having tea with Renamon was something of a surprise, and Takeru wandered the house until he came across something even more unusual.

Ruki allowed them to cuddle her, and might grudgingly return the favor. As a rule, she did not cuddle them first. Seeing Ken and Ruki alone together wasn't all that unusual, but seeing Ruki use Ken as a pillow as she slept was another thing entirely. And she was noticeably pregnant; that brought Takeru up short. He wasn't sure he was ready to be a father just yet, even if it was just as likely to be Ken's.

Takeru moved silently to the right side of the bed at Ken's behest, because Ken's shoulder never quite healed right and Ruki had always been careful with it and favored his left side. That, and approaching her from behind without warning usually got an elbow in whichever of his body parts was closest. Loving Ruki usually resulted in bruises, but he couldn't say he minded it very much. "So when were either of you going to tell me," he whispered.

"You were off doing who knew what," Ken whispered back, eyes glinting in suppressed amusement. "Things happen when you disappear, you know."

"I was writing. History of the reunification, remember?" Takeru might have made more of an effort to make Ken laugh, but curling up in bed with his lovers sounded like a great idea after driving from his retreat at Lake Biwa. He slipped into bed as carefully as he could and brushed a light kiss over Ken's lips. "I did miss you, though. Both of you."

"Missed you, too." Then Ken kissed him back, and it was so good to have someone to come back to —

Then something thumped on his head the moment he drew back to appreciate what he had, and he looked up to see Ruki glaring at him with a cushion in hand. It was Annoyed Look #3, which generally meant that he was at fault for something, but she didn't really hate him for it. He looked at her in askance.

"This is your fault, you know," she groused, though she made no effort to detach from Ken's side.

Ah, this was going to be delicate territory to navigate. Ken sighed, apparently preparing himself for being in the middle of another argument. "Ruki, love? Are you sure it's not Ken's?"

Then she rolled her eyes at him, as she usually did when he was being dense. "Angel, _love_, Prettyboy was away being the big fancy Prime Minister during the months I've been trying to fuck you senseless. I see it worked."

'Senseless' might not have been far off the mark. He blinked blankly at her, trying to parse the exact meaning of the words. Takeru had never actually considered fatherhood, not with his family's history. Frankly, he'd never considered being in a relationship for this long, either. Ten years, wasn't it? This probably should have happened sooner. He opened his mouth to respond, blinked and closed it when he didn't know what to respond with, and Ken was trying not to laugh as Ruki gave that satisfied smile she had when she won their battles of wits. He was confused, but there was a warm curl of delight welling inside him, too. Then a grin spread across his face. "Have you chosen a name?"

"Rusaka, or Rui," Ken replied, though Takeru knew that they would be Ruki's choices. Except in very rare events, neither of them was inclined to tell Ruki what to do. Knowing himself and Ken, he knew they would let Ruki run the show for the extent of the pregnancy.

"Rusaka sounds a bit like rusalka," Takeru pointed out, somewhat inanely. 'Red-haired girl' in Slavic, according to some books he read on the road. Water nymphs who, in their nineteenth century incarnations, lured men to their watery deaths. He shared this with them, and she grinned. Naturally. Sirens and other such creatures responsible for the doom of men delighted her.

"Perfect. Rusaka it is." Ruki then draped her arm back across Ken's chest and her eyes fluttered closed.

Takeru decided to risk it, and leaned over Ken to kiss Ruki. Or tried to. Her hand shot up when she felt the bed shift and stopped him in his tracks. "No sugar until you make up for this, Angel."

"Yes, dear," he replied, though he knew she wasn't completely serious. He'd likely have to go find the ice cream maker and put in an order for black sesame before she'd let him touch her again. Ruki would probably use the pregnancy as an excuse to order him around, which he didn't mind at all. Not with what he knew of her past, or the tales suggested by her scars.

Takeru laid on his side, careful of Ken's disabled shoulder, and watched them both drift off. They were important political figures, and all he really did these days was write down his experiences and occasionally go fishing. Ruki would want to go straight back to work after she gave birth, and Ken would likely be busy running the country. Being a father might not be so bad; Shukkei Garden was sufficiently isolated enough to let his mind wander, and the digimon would surely help him with the kid. And, with the country now mostly stable, little Rusaka might even have a chance at a normal childhood.

In the peaceful isolation of Shukkei Garden, with Patamon flitting around with Renamon and Wormmon in the garden and his lovers ensconced with their worries forgotten, Takeru drifted off to sleep.


	3. 02: Ripples

Salva Nos Apocrypha  
02: Ripples  
by Ajora Fravashi

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.  
Note: Sorry I haven't been able to finish the latest chapter of the main fic. I've been so busy. This was 95% done before I finished it in a hotel and I'm still on my business trip.

I've been wanting to explore some repercussions of several things in the main fic, but I know I won't be able to address them in the main fic itself. So here it is. Warning for implied homosexuality and questionable scientific ethics.

* * *

The trees were a riot of colors, the animals were packing away food, and nightly temperatures were dropping to coat weather. There was a bite in the air that suggested that her brother would be arriving any time now to whisk her away to the big city for the winter. Sanyo had fought the arrangement initially, clung to Dad's leg like a koala at an age when she could still get away with it, and had to be scared with tales of ghosts walking the valley floor with the coming of winter. She later learned that there were no such things as ghosts, but she had enjoyed her comfortable winter with Mimi so much that she forgave her fathers for the slight. Shibata didn't get snowed in and remain under months-long avalanche warnings, and Mimi always took her shopping for new clothes to take back with her. At ten, which she thought was a very mature age even though Papa said she still couldn't drive his truck yet, she had come to understand two things: that her fathers used her absence to do dangerous restoration work on their inn-turned-residence, and that they wanted her safe in Shibata where the snow never fell high enough to block the door and there were no risks of avalanches. Sanin said that there were other reasons, but he refused to enlighten her about them and said that she'd figure it out when she was older. Which was completely unfair, because Papa said she was old enough to ride the pony with only Monodramon's supervision, so there.

Getting the pony to hurry along was another thing entirely. The mountainside was too steep for the bicycle she'd learned to ride in Shibata and the switchback road had to be traversed carefully, especially when Epona had to pull a cart like she was now. No amount of urging the pony along would get her to move faster. She groaned loudly, which got Monodramon's attention.

"Do you want to break your bones again?"

Her nose crinkled as she frowned at the reminder. Just last year she had tried to ride her bike down the road leading to their home, and the incline was so steep that she'd lost control of the brakes and broke her leg. Dad scolded Papa harshly for not watching her and they both kept a closer eye on her. Then Monodramon volunteered to babysit her and it was really dragging her down. "Epona doesn't listen to me anyway. I bet I could jump off and she'd still take the cart home without me."

Monodramon didn't scold her for voicing her thoughts. No one did, because she seldom ever acted on them. "Probably. But you still have to take care of her, and that means staying with her on these trips."

"I know." Sanyo didn't mind it, really. Riding a cart was better than walking all one thousand and three hundred meters of switchback road to the cluster of houses up Mt. Naeba where her friends lived, and she appreciated the responsibility of helping her family by exchanging supplies with her friends' families. Dad served as town doctor, Papa as a handyman, and they often traded some of the contents of their garden or the wild plants Papa found on his walks for different kinds of food they didn't make on their own. Wayama was barely even a town, really. They were just some houses and inns off of a stretch of road running along the side of Mt Naeba and there wasn't an actual city for miles. They had only themselves to rely on, which was why Papa settled here in the first place.

Epona finally, finally shuffled carefully down the steep slope of the road that ended at the riverside hot springs. There were several buildings, but her family only lived in the one that had been an inn at one time. There was a car packed in the parking area, one that looked brand new. Once they were in the barn, Sanyo dismounted from the driver's seat of the cart with a clumsy excitement that almost had her fall into the gravel. Monodramon helped her remove Epona's harness and sent her off to carry the perishables inside. She breathed a quick "thanks" and grabbed the beef and roasted ham. The dry stuff could be taken in later. Sanyo was very proud of herself for trading so well, though she did have Monodramon advising her.

The old watch dog, Samus, perked up upon her approach to the porch. Sanyo tossed her a bit of bacon, which set Samus' tail wagging, and nudged open the front door. There were two other pairs of shoes at the entrance, which made sense. Her brother couldn't drive on his own and was usually accompanied by Juri. She kicked off her own shoes and stepped into her house slippers, and proceeded down the hall to the big kitchen that once fed a full inn. Once she put away the meat in the freezer, she proceeded to the dining room. Its size magnified the voices and she stepped out of her slippers in the hopes that she could finally sneak up on her brother.

"- You sure you're not angling for Ken's position?" Dad seldom ever talked about his brother, which piqued her interest. Uncle Ken was Prime Minister, after all, and was much too busy to visit.

"I've had enough of having one target painted on my back, thank you." Her brother, sardonic in a way he hadn't been before he got into politics. She heard that there had been an assassination attempt on him before she was born, but no one had ever explained to her why he had been a target in the first place. "No, I'll be satisfied with being Minister of Foreign Affairs. There's more power in that position with fewer restraints."

Papa spoke then, and she could picture the concern on his face. "You'll be careful about interns, right? You're of an age-"

"_Honestly_, Dad! I know better than to get involved with anyone while I'm in office. The greater concern is my relation to a certain missing war criminal." That made Sanyo wince, if only because she could picture Papa trying not to look wounded by the comment. No one ever explained to her how Papa was a war criminal, just that he had to be careful in town. "And in that respect, congratulations. According to my contacts in the United Repubic of Korea, you died on Jeju Island. Turns out that lava tubes are unstable ground. There will be a small announcement and you'll be free to walk in public in a year or so. If you feel like ditching the Odin gimmick, anyway." Dad would probably be pleased with that; he never did like the beard. Sanyo had a hard time picturing Papa without it, though. She'd seen photos of the time before the Great Unification, but she had always known her Papa as having shaggy hair and a beard and sometimes an eyepatch when his eye wasn't working right. That was very different from the clean-shaven young man with spiked hair.

"I always thought it'd take more than a fall to do away with me." Was there a smile in Papa's voice? She thought there was. "Thanks. Better than the alternative."

"It would be nice to get rid of that thing on your face," Dad said in that dry tone of voice of his that no one really took offence to. Then he switched gears. "Any word on the third phase of the Hiroshima study? I daresay some of you are old enough now to-"

Her brother sighed and called for her. "Gattaca, you can stop eavesdropping and come in."

_Gattaca_. Her nose scrunched at the nickname as she stepped into the room. She didn't hate it, really. It was a reminder that she was a genetics experiment that Dad got attached to and allowed to grow. Something about whether or not it was possible to create a zygote from two different XY chromosomes (and an egg from Mimi) and how much tampering could be done to the resultant DNA. Sanin was a genetic experiment, too, just one done in a more primitive setting. He and Dad got into ethics disputes all the time lately, especially now that his generation was growing up and showing a concerning tendency to seek company with their own. That the last dispute was over her had been alarming, to say the least. Sanin never understood why Dad didn't give her the genius mutation that the Nellis virus introduced to his genome, and Dad had argued that it was too early to know the long-term repercussions of the mutation on the wider gene pool. Or so she understood. Her talents lay elsewhere, like in Dad's chemistry lab in one of the out-buildings, where everything had its place and acted as expected.

Dad tried not to smile as she stuck her tongue out at her brother and tucked into Papa's side at the table. There was no sign of Aunt Juri or Labramon, her brother's partner, so she assumed that they were soaking in the hot spring. "Now then, the study?"

"Right now there's too small a sample size; most of us are still teens, after all." Sanin continued as if he hadn't seen her reaction to the nickname. Which he probably didn't; removing his cataracts when he was younger hadn't been the cure that Mimi wanted because there was the same kind of Nellis-induced complication with the optic nerves that Papa had in one of his eyes. Even with therapy and corrective lenses, he would never be able to see like she did. "There are concerns over my generation's reduced fertility. Those of us who, ah, seek out others with the mutation tend to have a much harder time with having children than those who are exogamous. However, a handful does not make for a statistically significant study."

"It's worth keeping an eye on them, nevertheless." The way it sounded, Dad didn't have to mention that everything about the Hiroshima study was about tracking the effects of the Nellis-induced mutation. While Sanin didn't bother with the hard sciences, he had been one of the first subjects of the study. He looked like he was going to bristle at the reminder, which for him meant that his eyes narrowed slightly and his words took on a clipped tone that people unfamiliar with him wouldn't notice.

And then, to keep the peace, Papa redirected the conversation. "So, anything new out of Ken's gang? He hasn't really been forthcoming in his letters."

"The positive thing coming out of the lowered fertility rate is that some members of my generation view adoption a little more kindly than yours." Sanin made it sound like a moral failing. "The Motomiya Children's Home has more and more empty beds every year. Daisuke says that at this rate, he may have to close as a formal establishment in a couple of years and adopt anyone who hasn't found a home by then. Last I heard, Takenouchi was taking personal time from running Iwakuni. A vacation, I think. I heard that Takaishi is working on a history book. So, Dad, I'd like to borrow your notes if you still have them. Other than that, I haven't followed things with them closely." Sanin shrugged, as if in emphasis. He was much more interested in what followed, which made sense to her because he was always good at envisioning the bigger picture. "On the international front: The Amur River Valley people have split from Manchuria and are looking to join the Pan-Siberian Union, who are currently involved in a border dispute with the Russian Consortium. North America is still something of a lost cause; it suffers the same splintering as what used to be China. We remain on fairly good terms with Korea, though a large part of that was because of Ken's willingness to heed my advice and apologize for the past. There will be a discussion over disputed territories in a few months, and I don't expect much problem with that if Ken continues to listen to those who are better educated in such matters." Meaning her brother, of course. Some people with the mutation were gifted in maths and sciences, he was gifted in geopolitics. She remembered Papa teasing him about wanting to take over the world and wondered if there had been a grain of truth in his words.

"Advice you'll offer without expecting recompense, of course." There was that tone in Dad's voice that suggested he thought otherwise. When Sanin gave that half-smile of his that tried and failed to reassure, Dad turned his attention to her. "And how was your lunch with the Hinomotos?"

Sanyo was surprised at the sudden change of topic, but responded without missing a beat. Though maybe she might have stood a little straighter. "It was great! I got to learn a dance! Also, Mrs. Hinomoto says she's low on epilepsy meds, so she'd really appreciate it if you made some more. She made us sweaters, but they're in the cart. And I traded our chicken eggs and herbal medicines for some beef and ham. And Mr. Tobari from up the road dropped off that rice and miso paste for your clinic hours last month. Oh! And he said he's waiting for a landslide to clear before he goes to pick up our tofu order from town."

"Great job, kiddo," Papa said with that easy grin of his, and he squeezed her in a hug for a moment. "We're gonna miss your bartering skills when you go."

Sanin had that neutral look, which meant that he was probably going to ignore her for an hour. Dad's lavender eyes glinted behind his glasses in amusement as she played at trying to struggle away. "Don't get too comfortable in Shibata, okay? We want you back as soon as winter's over."

Her brother got up suddenly, and then Labramon skidded to a stop in the hall. He was followed by Aunt Juri, who dressed in something that looked fancy and new and only the dampness of her hair betrayed the fact that she'd been in one of the hot springs. Sanin may not have supernatural hearing, and he always said that he was better attuned to background noise than sighted people, but he sure did act like he could hear better than everyone else. He did crack a slight smile when Labramon scampered over to him, circled him once, and sat like an actual dog.

"Be good to Mimi and Aunt Juri, okay?" Papa hugged her again, and this time she hugged back and murmured an affirmative into his beard, which was brown and flecked with black and grey, like some kind of cat. "Your things are in the car, so don't worry about packing."

She nodded and peeled off, and then hugged Dad, whose hair went every which way just like hers. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. He'd miss having her underfoot in the laboratory, just as Papa would miss her accompanying him on his hikes into the woods. Sanyo didn't let go until Aunt Juri's hand alighted on her shoulder. Some bangles tinkled together with the motion.

"We should go before it gets dark," Aunt Juri said, her voice ever gentle. "It's not safe to drive in the mountains after sunset."

"I know." Sanyo stepped from Dad and turned to find Monodramon. She paused for a moment to glance at Sanin, who gave a formal bow that suggested at tensions left unaddressed. Though she really wished he'd let go of whatever it was he had against her fathers, it was none of her business.

But then Monodramon popped up at the entrance to the dining hall and she ducked to hug him tight. He chuckled and held her close, and sometimes she wondered if she might have a digimon partner, too. Maybe her partner would be just like him. "Enjoy your vacation," he said, and she grinned back and promised to bring back a treat.

Once the last goodbyes were said, she piled into the back of the brand new car with Labramon while her brother sat up front with Aunt Juri. They started talking politics like they always did, and she looked back as the car drove effortlessly up the switchback road. She waved at her fathers until the trees hid them from sight.

Sanyo hoped it wasn't going to be a long winter.

* * *

Notes: Labramon evolves to Dobermon, so technically Ryo kept his promise to Sanin. Gattaca was dubbed into Japanese in 1998, so yeah, Sanin would have seen the movie once Iwakuni and Niigata allied and technicians moved freely between them. Wayama means "Peace Mountain" and is part of the Akiyama region of Niigata.

BTW, as Sanin means "mountain shadow", so Sanyo means "mountain light".


End file.
